


Girl Stuff

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-03-20
Updated: 1999-03-20
Packaged: 2018-11-10 22:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Frannie and Meg try a little female bonding - shopping!





	Girl Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Girl Stuff

I have this urge to pit Thatcher against the Vecchio family, and much as I like her, I don't think she'd win... 

Nik 

\------- 

# Girl Stuff

"Hey, now this is great." Francesca Vecchio delved enthusiastically into a clothes rack and drew out a swing shift banded in electric orange and vibrant purple. 

Meg turned to look at it and winced, very slightly. "Uh... yeah." 

"Here, try it on." Francesca thrust it at her, encouragingly. "I think it's really you." 

She tried not to take that as an insult. "No... that's all right, thank you, Francesca." 

"Go on, just to see." 

"No, really..." 

Frannie took Meg by the arm and dragged her to a mirror, holding up the dress in front of her. "See?" 

Meg did her best not to cringe. "I don't know that I'd have anywhere to wear it, honestly, Francesca." 

"Hmm." Frannie studied the reflection thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right." She replaced the dress and turned to scrutinise Meg's outfit. Meg could feel herself flushing a little, involuntarily glancing down at her immaculate pearl-grey suit. 

"What?" 

"Just thinking." Frannie gestured for Meg to turn around, and she did so, self-consciously. "Do you ever wear anything... I don't know, more exciting than that?" 

"I wear red sometimes..." 

"I mean besides your uniform." 

"I wasn't referring to that," she told her sharply, on the defensive. 

"Well, that's good," Frannie said dubiously, and then brightened. "I know, we can look for a going-away outfit for you." 

"No, that's not necessary, Francesca..." Meg called out, a little desperately, as the other woman plunged enthusiastically into a sea of lime green and cobalt blue. "Really, I have something already. Do you think perhaps we should try to find your brother and Fraser?" 

"Naah, they'll still be talking about the bachelors' party, and stuff... hey, do you ever wear tartan?" 

"Only once, and that was a kilt. Francesca... oh, god," she exclaimed involuntarily as Frannie held up a jacket in psychedelic colours for her appraisal. "What is that, Clan LSD?" 

"You don't like it?" Frannie was undaunted. "You need time to adjust, but I think it could work on you." 

" _No_ , Francesca. Please put it back. I've already got a going-away outfit." _And a headache._

"You sure?" A little disappointed, Frannie gave the jacket one last glance and replaced it, looking around. A section Meg had been dreading caught her eye. "Hey, Maternity!" 

"No..." She stood still, resolving not to encourage the detective's sister, but underestimated her enthusiasm. Frannie grabbed her arm, dragging her with a strength Meg hadn't credited her with, promising that it would be "fun". The promise, in Meg's view, was in a fair way to being broken the moment Frannie decided she should try on some of the dresses. 

"No, Francesca, really..." 

Frannie put her hands on her hips, looking unexpectedly intimidating, and fixed her with a look. "Frannie. You're practically marrying into the family, you can call me Frannie. And you can try on just _one_ dress for me." She gave her an appealing smile. "Please, Meg?" 

Not sure what she was letting herself into, Meg nodded helplessly, but balked when Frannie handed her the dress. It was floral, pink, with puffy sleeves and a lacy white collar. "No, Frannie..." 

Francesca held up her forefinger. "One dress. Just one dress." 

There was something implacable in her tone, and Meg took the dress reluctantly, just to get it over with. She went into the cubicle and put it on, and checked the mirror, apprehensively. 

"Are you in it yet?" 

"There is no way in this lifetime that..." 

"Just get out here, will you?" 

" _No_ , Francesca..." 

"Frannie, and just do it, will you? I want to see it." 

She thought about what Frannie might do if she refused, and decided not to risk it. With a baleful expression very much at odds with the Laura Ashley femininity of the dress, she came out in time to hear "Now, Ray, I really don't think..." before being blinded by the flash of a camera. 

She went straight back into the cubicle, furious. She could hear Ray and Frannie laughing as she changed back into her usual clothes. "I don't find that amusing." 

As she came out, Ray was handing a camera back to a sales assistant and waving a Polaroid photo to develop it, and she ripped it out of his hands. Fraser was watching her with an expression comprised of contrition and faint amusement. 

"You could have warned me." 

"I was..." 

"We wouldn't let him," Frannie told her with a bright smile. "Come on, you didn't look that bad. Unlock your feminine side." 

"You don't think I'm feminine?" 

"I think we're getting into white water here," Ray intervened hastily. "Why don't we go down to the coffee shop?" 

"You go," Frannie told her brother. "And take Meg. We'll meet you there \- I want to show Ben something." 

Fraser and Meg exchanged suddenly alarmed looks, and Ray fought to keep from laughing, making a concerted effort not to further antagonise the inspector. 

"Come on, you have your orders, Mounties." 

They separated unwillingly, equally apprehensive, and Meg followed Ray to the coffee shop. When they were settled, their coffees in front of them, she looked at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Detective, with all due respect to your sister, who is a very worthy woman, if you ever leave me to 'do shopping' with her again, I will kill one or both of you, slowly and very painfully." 

"Don't tell me you didn't bond!" Ray exclaimed in mock horror. 

"I don't 'bond', Detective. I don't 'do hair' with people, I don't play Truth or Dare, I don't do makeovers with people, I don't try on dresses with people. And yet, this has been my afternoon to date." 

"Not exactly Miss Congeniality, are you? Hey, are you gonna call me 'Detective' and 'Vecchio' even after you're married? Would it be easier if I wore a name tag or something?" 

"I don't think it's not congenial," she said a little defensively. "It's just something I've never done." 

"Like listening." 

"No, I heard you," she said hurriedly, uncomfortably. "Ray. I know it's Ray. I'm sorry." 

"You're what?" 

"Don't overdo the disbelief, Vecchio," she snapped at him with her usual asperity. "It detracts from the credibility of your act." 

"Act," he muttered, but knew he'd teased her enough. He looked up as Fraser and Francesca joined them, the former looking red and slightly flustered. "Did you have fun?" 

"Well, I... that is to say, we..." 

"Shh." Frannie elbowed him in the ribs, with a warning look as she indicated Meg. Meg bit down a smile, while Ray just rolled his eyes. 

"Very good, Frannie. Subtle." 

"Yeah, shut up, Ray. And give me your wallet." 

"Yeah, right," he scoffed at her, and she glowered at him. 

"You said you'd buy me cheesecake if I took Meg..." she trailed off belatedly, and avoided Meg's suddenly curious gaze. Ray looked pained and grabbed her by the elbow, hissing, "Come on, then. And keep your mouth shut." 

Meg watched them leave, eyes narrowing vengefully, and turned back to Fraser. "So what did Francesca show you?" 

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I really don't think I'm supposed to tell you." 

"If it's what I think it is, please bear in mind that leopard-print satin is not me." 

"Oh, but the sales assistant assured me it was very tasteful..." 

"Ben, it was structurally unsound..." She caught the barest hint of a smile on his lips and sighed, exasperated. "You're paying out on me. Stop that." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"You have got to promise me you won't make me do 'girl stuff' with Francesca Vecchio again." 

"I will, but..." He stopped and looked abashed. 

"But what?" 

"I agreed... you see, she asked, and I... well, she's organising your baby shower." 

Meg winced, looking at him helplessly. It was useless; he was useless. "You moron, Ben." 

"Also, Mrs Vecchio has invited us to dinner with the family tonight." 

She stared at him for a brief, horrified moment, then stood, intent on escaping while she still had the chance. His hand darted out and caught hers, and he looked at her beseechingly with his blue, blue eyes. "Meg, please. The Vecchios mean a lot to me, and they really would like to meet you." 

Desperately, she pointed out, "Ben, if they're like Ray and Francesca, they'll eat me alive." 

"Please, Meg?" 

It was a look no human could resist for long, and grudgingly, she gave in, sitting back down. "You moron, Ben. They'll eat me alive." 

"Ray once told me that they only attack the ones they love." 

"That doesn't make me feel any better; Frannie told me today I'm almost family." 

"Oh. Oh, well, then..." 

"Just drink your coffee, Ben." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

__________________________________________ 

Nicola Heiser 

Nicola Heiser died on 24th October 1997, and is greatly missed by her friends and fans of her writing. 


End file.
